


Lazy Sunday Mornings

by Mishka10



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Soft Jaskier | Dandelion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:28:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26138116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mishka10/pseuds/Mishka10
Summary: "Jaskier sighs, rests his head comfortably on Geralt’s chest, feeling the warmth radiating off the man. He hums again, soft and quiet, not wanting to disrupt the moment of peace."Geralt and Jaskier share a soft and lazy morning, both somewhat reluctant to actually get up and out of bed.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 2
Kudos: 110





	Lazy Sunday Mornings

Jaskier wakes slowly. Softly, heavy eyelids twitch, before slowly peeling open. Vision unfocused and hazy, world not yet in focus.

He breaths deep, sweet cold air filling his lungs, helping encourage him to join the waking world. A tilt of the head, nose rubbing against the soft bed sheets, breathing in the musty scent of his bed mate. 

Jaskier groans, cracks and stretches a sore neck, trying to wake up tired muscles. He squeezes his eyes back shut, eyelids still crusted with sleep; blinks in the grey dusty morning air. The touch of pink sunlight only just starting to lazily seep in through the open window.

He shifts to look at it, watching the weak beams push their way through the crack between well-worn curtains. He turns, feeling his spine shift, slotting comfortably back into place, rolls his shoulders, letting them click back where they belong.

A hand stretches out, careful not to hit Geralt, fingers extending and curling in turn, tips only just brushing into the soft sunlight, painted pale pink, lovely and warm. Sunlight glittering lightly against his skin.

He hums, soft and gentle, curls the hand back in, rests it on Geralt’s firm chest, warm and comfortable. Geralt doesn’t react beyond a quiet huff, a light breath slipping out.

His fingers curl carefully against the Witcher’s skin, tangling in chest hair, trying not to tug.

He sighs, rests his head comfortably on Geralt’s chest, feeling the warmth radiating off the man. He hums again, soft and quiet, not wanting to disrupt the moment of peace they have found themselves in. 

Still, he’s never been good at staying still for long. 

He trails a soft hand down to rest on the Witcher’s stomach, fingers just almost brushing against the edge of Geralt’s pants.

At that Geralt grunts, shifts slightly, offering what can only just be distinguished as a gruff, “morning,” eyes still firmly closed.

Jaskier laughs lightly at the sound, tilting up and returning a soft and friendly, “morning.”

He receives another, shapeless grunt in answer, the Witcher seemingly reluctant to properly awaken.

Jaskier doesn’t truly mind though. Instead he simply hums in response, tilting up to place a light kiss to the edge of Geralt’s jaw, lips pressing against rough skin. Ready to slow teasy the man awake, taking as much time as needed, he was in no rush.

Geralt snorts, head tilting away, not that will stop him, Jaskier pushing up to follow, nuzzling at Geralt’s neck. Geralt groans at the touch, at Jaskier’s nose dragging along his neck, the noise managing to sound both half pleased and half irritated.

Jaskier smiles at the sound, grin pressed against Geralt’s flesh, clearly, he was already getting somewhere. Encouraged he tilts his head up best he can, ignoring the protest from his neck to press a line of gentle kisses against Geralt’s neck, lips gently nipping at delicate skin.

Geralt groans again, managing thought enough to growl out a sharp and gravely “ _Jaskier_.”

The bard steals a line from Geralt to answer, lightly humming in place of words. Lets the soft sound roll out, light against Geralt’s ear. The Witcher grumbles, a quiet, shapeless sound, but does nothing to move away, to push Jaskier off.

Jaskier’s smile grows, hand rubbing gentle circles against Geralt’s skin, curled around the Witcher’s hip, fingers digging in ever so slightly, just to see Geralt shift in response. The hand slowly inches lower, fingers dipping just below the waistband.

Geralt shifts, grumbling again, this time Jaskier thinks there may have been an actual sentence in it somewhere, hidden in the low irritated tones.

He hums again, pressing himself against Geralt, hips roll, slow and leisurely, drawing out a lazy, “mmm- what?”

Geralt grunts but manages to pull his words together enough to say, “I said, you’re a menace.”

Jaskier gasps, mock offended, he slides his hand up, letting nails drag lightly across Geralt’s chest, leaving the faintest suggestion of red marks. Certainly not enough to hurt, but hopefully enough to annoy. “Hmm- really?” Jaskier asks, voice fake sugar sweet.

Geralt hums at the touch, face relaxing from the fake frown painted across it for a moment.

Before Geralt remembers himself, frown snapping back into place, dragging out, “don’t you have anything better to do, bard?” The words a low growl, lacking any true bite.

Jaskier chuckles, sliding the hand back down, taking care to flick over one of Geralt’s nipples as it goes, murmuring out a soft and slow, “no.” He digs fingertips back into the dip of Geralt’s hip, hears the Witcher growl in response.

“ _Bard_.”

“Ger-alt.” Jaskier draws out the word, slow and syrupy, letting it drip free.

Jaskier rolls his hips again, pressing a line of teasing kisses along Geralt’s shoulder. He finds a spot he likes, dragging his tongue across it, feeling Geralt resist a shutter in response. A dangerous smile dances on his lips, offering another gentle kiss before he takes a chance and _bites_.

Teeth dig in, not enough to break the skin, to draw blood, but certainly enough to leave a mark.

Geralt grunts in surprise, muscles tensing, causing teeth to dig in deeper to his flesh. The Witcher’s eyes finally spring open, unable to feign sleep any longer.

Teeth slip free, Jaskier presses a kiss to mark it left, little indents clear in Geralt’s skin. He huffs out a gentle laugh, hot breath ghosting against the Witcher’s shoulder. Head angled back up he licks a strip along Geralt’s neck, feels the man shiver in response.

Geralt huffs, finally offering a proper response, turning to knock Jaskier away from his neck, press their lips together instead. Jaskier sighs into the pressure, eagerly pressing up to meet Geralt. The hand on Geralt’s hip squeezes once more, fingernails digging in enough to leave a mark.

The move earns Jaskier another Grunt from the Witcher, the man pulling back, lip curling over sharp teeth in mock snarl. Jaskier chuckles at the sight, shifts, body carefully, tactically, rubbing against Geralt’s.

The snarl deepens, Geralt suddenly ducking down to sink his teeth, sharp and pointed, into Jaskier’s neck.

Jaskier moans at the feeling, at the sharp, piercing pain, hand reflexively tightening further, nails digging in enough to draw blood.

Geralt pulls back up with an unimpressed grunt, eyebrow raised. Jaskier pushes up to recapture Geralt’s lips, smooth away the frown. Geralt grumbles against Jaskier’s mouth but doesn’t pull away. Jaskier can’t stop himself from smiling against the Witcher’s lips, soft and comfortable.

Feeling confident, his hand dips lower, slipping fully into Geralt’s pants. He cups Geralt’s dick, offering a soft and gentle pressure. Feels it twitch in response, hearing Geralt grunt, the shift in surprise. Shift but not pull away.

If anything, Geralt pushes up, hips rolling ever so slightly, only just pressing up against Jaskier’s hand.

Jaskier’s smile deepens, slowly sliding across his face, corners of his lips flickering in the struggle to express the depth of his emotions. Jaskier ducks his head, pressing it into the corner of Geralt’s neck to hide a delighted laugh, body shaking lightly. He curls delicate and careful fingers gently around Geralt’s cock, offering another light squeeze.

Geralt lets out a heavy breath, a considering hum, pushing up against Jaskier’s hand once more, hips shifting upwards in a tiny, constrained thrust.

Jaskier grins at the move, teeth sinking back into the Witcher’s shoulder to hold himself quiet, not disturb the moment. Not that Geralt seems to mind, offering another heavy huff at the bite, shoulder twitching in an effort to hold still, keep from tearing the skin against Jaskier’s sharp teeth.

Jaskier shifts, teeth releasing to let his hips roll against Geralt as he starts to move, hand stroking slowly, leisurely, in as little a rush as he had been for the rest of the morning. He feels Geralt slowly start to harden, respond to the teasing touch.

The move earns him a proper groan, Geralt’s mouth opening, eyes slipping back shut, the lingering tension slipping from his face once more.

Jaskier hums in answer to the sound, once again moving to lick and nip at Geralt’s neck, the Witcher’s head is stretched back, leaving his neck wondrously exposed and easy to attack. Jaskier peppers it with kisses, nipping and tugging on the skin as he goes.

He presses a line of sharp kisses against Geralt’s jawline, each one placed in time with his relaxed strokes, before starting to move his way back down Geralt’s neck.

They both groan when Jaskier bites down again, this time accompanying the move with a rough tug on Geralt’s cock. The Witcher thrusts up at the move, an almost proper thrust this time, hips decidedly moving, shifting forward against Jaskier’s hand. 

“ _Jaskier_ ,” Geralt all but moans out.

Jaskier hums, pressing a kiss to the new bite mark, angling up to press a sloppy, messy kiss against the corner of Geralt’s mouth, the angle uncomfortable.

Geralt groans again, a heavy, deep sound, chest heaving. Jaskier offers a moan in response, rolling his body against the Witcher’s, shifting, pressing. Geralt grunts at the feeling, cock hard in Jaskier’s hand.

Jaskier speeds up his movements, clever fingers sliding across Geralt’s dick, hearing Geralt’s breath hitch at the change. Geralt gasps, sucking in a heavy breath, chest heaving, slow and strong. Jaskier breaths out a satisfied, joyful laugh, breath hot against Geralt’s skin.

He offers another rough tug, sharp and determined. Feels Geralt shifting below his touch. Geralt huffs out a heavy breath, a deep, wonderous sigh. 

Geralt pushes up, hips flicking upwards, thrusting against Jaskier’s hand, into the wonderful, comfortable pressure. Jaskier rewards the move with a gentle squeeze, soft and comfortable.

Geralt groans again, head dipping down, eyelids flickering.

Jaskier hums, pressed comfortably against Geralt, strong and solid. He feels Geralt twitch in his hand, feels the Witcher’s body tense further beneath him. Geralt clearly on edge, close to spilling over.

Jaskier presses a smile to Geralt’s shoulder, hand tugging, turning, carefully, slowly pulling Geralt closer to completion. Hears Geralt grunt and huff above him, body tense, muscles clenching tight.

He tugs, rough and strong, pressing soft kisses against the Witcher’s skin. 

Geralt comes with a low moan, slow and easy, tense body shaking, shifting, muscles slowly relaxing. Jaskier offers a final stroke to Geralt’s oversensitive cock. Feels it twitch valiantly in his hand. Geralt offers a final low moan at the move, head fallen back, body relaxed and heavy against the bed.

Jaskier shifts his hand away, sliding it back up, along Geralt’s chest, slow and comfortable. Geralt offers a low groan at the touch. He hums, chest rumbling, Jaskier feels the soft shift below his hand, humming in response.

Jaskier smiles, tilting up to press another soft, sweet kiss against Geralt’s lips. He drops his head down, laying back against Geralt’s chest, solid and warm. He hums out a soft, “morning.”

Geralt grunts from above him, offering a half chuckle, a rough responding, “good morning.”

Jaskier glances up, offering a small smile, face bright. Geralt returns the smile, looking back from half closed eyes, face relaxed and calm. Jaskier’s fingers play lightly against Geralt’s skin, light and soft.

Jaskier feels Geralt’s hand press against his back, a soft, comfortable touch.

Jaskier sighs, murmurs out a “mmm- a _very_ good morning.”

Geralt snorts from above him, “cocky, bard.” 

“hmm… maybe, but still true.”

Geralt sighs but doesn’t protest.

A very good morning indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> -i just wanted soft. thanks for reading-


End file.
